Facets
by She-Elf4
Summary: This is a one-shot series featuring Piett and Vader, exploring their relationship. Some of them will be crossovers, some of them will be romance, and they will not all be connected.
1. Illogical

A.N.: This is a crossover with Star Trek, the reboot movie series. Before this, Spock was given a mission by Starfleet to infiltrate the Galactic Empire.

* * *

Spock, under the assumed alias Firmus Piett, watched his lord, Darth Vader, with a mild sense of anxiety. Darth Vader was the only being in the universe who could draw any emotion out of him. The fact that his Kolinahr was incomplete, or reversing itself, would have irked him if he were capable of it. However, it wasn't surprising; he had undergone kolinahr in the months following Vulcan's destruction. His grief over his lost world had been killing him and kolinahr was his one chance of survival. In the end, his father had to make him undergo it; Spock himself simply hadn't cared enough.

"You have failed me for the last time, Admiral," Vader growled out, bringing Spock back to the present. "Captain Piett." Spock stepped forward, anxiety rising to true fear as he tried not to watch Admiral Ozzel dying beside him. "You are in command now, Admiral Piett."

Spock's eyes widened. His breath came in short gasps, his heart raced, and his gloves filled with sweat. He knew with absolute certainty that he'd never been in more danger of dying, nor had he ever been quite so desperate for life. The terror that filled him was as icy as the frost that had formed on Vulcan for the first time in a million years; his last sight of his doomed homeworld. The logical part of him noted with some irony that this was the first time he'd felt warm since then. "Thank you, Lord Vader." Vader cut the transmission as Spock nodded for Ozzel's body to be removed. The terror ebbed back down to a normal level of mild anxiety, leaving Spock feeling empty and craving more.


	2. Great Minds

A.N. Originally, this was going to be crossed over with Evangelion, but then it seemed like a good continuation of the previous one-shot, so I just left it unmixed with random elements of both ideas.

* * *

The first touch of that other mind was curious, almost cautious. Yet, it was so profoundly dark that it couldn't be anyone but Vader. Piett immediately felt a thrill of fear pass through himself. He tried to push it aside as he opened his mind in an invitation. He felt that dark presence penetrate the first layers of his mind. Memories flashed by of their encounters on the bridge, noticing Vader's helmet turned towards him in silent regard. He had surreptitiously watched Vader in turn, had done for years. It suddenly occurred to Piett that he'd never been quite this intimate with anyone. Vader paused and observed for a moment and Piett was afraid he was disgusted, would want to leave. Piett had to shove the fear aside again.

Once the fear had eased, Piett's tension eased and he invited Vader in deeper. Vader went through the years, passing by his years serving as Tarkin's personal assistant and paper pusher. Deeper, until Piett's memories of first awakening on Axxilla came up. The people were just like any other humans he'd ever seen, but the world was so unfamiliar. He remembered the intense feelings of grief when he'd realized there was no more green in the world. Vader seemed suddenly sorrowful; Piett could almost feel Vader stroking him.

Deeper Vader went, until he found memories of the disaster that had befallen his home. Piett could still remember how hard he'd fought to save it, to save his people, but it hadn't been hard enough. He could still feel the intense sense of failure. The dark fire of Vader's presence flared, as if he were angry. Terror flooded Piett; Vader could cripple him here, if he wanted to. Vader seemed to force his anger down; the flames abated. Again, he seemed sorrowful. Piett relaxed and Vader went in deeper.

The next memory he came to was his mother's death. She had died right in front of him, and he had been able to do nothing. Logically he knew it wasn't his fault, but he still felt responsible for it. The guilt had nearly destroyed him. He could feel sudden intense sorrow and grief from Vader; had Vader been through something similar? Piett mentally embraced Vader, drawing him away from that memory.

He felt Vader coming further in, through the years of service and schooling. Schoolyard bullies, making him feel less for being different. Using him as a test subject for every cruel idea that came to their minds, taunting him that his mother was a whore. Again, Vader's anger flared, but Piett was almost sure it wasn't directed at him. Still, he felt a moment of intense fear and Vader stopped. Piett forced the fear back under control, inviting Vader further in.

The next memory brought Piett intense pain, an old emotional wound he'd almost successfully forgotten about. His father's disgust at how like his mother he was, how much he picked every tiny mistake, how he'd eventually abandoned Piett when Piett wasn't exactly what he'd wanted in a son. Piett had always suspected he wasn't worth very much, his father's abandonment confirmed it. A sudden feeling of warmth drew Piett out of the memory, and he remembered Vader's presence. But surely Vader wouldn't want to see any more; how could he, when Piett's own father didn't want anything to do with him? But Vader gently drew him passed that memory, down to Piett's very core. Piett felt a thrill of pleasure, surprised he'd been able to go this far, even past his worst memory.

Here they encountered a wall of ice, trying to hold in Piett's deepest, strongest emotions. It was deeply cracked, with pieces missing. Around it was an empty, frozen wasteland of random thoughts and memories. Vader hesitated, and Piett mentally stood beside him. "I don't want to be like this anymore, but I can't bring it down by myself. I'm not strong enough," Piett quietly admitted. Vader's armor melted, revealing a blond man in dark robes, smiling warmly at Piett.

"Then we'll bring it down together," he said, drawing Piett towards the ice wall. Standing behind Piett's mental image of himself, Vader embraced the wall with his dark fire. Piett had expected it to break suddenly and painfully, but a sense of warm pleasure filled him. The wall melted and disappeared. Piett felt a flood of emotions fill him, some of the fear, anger, and grief that had been leaking out for a long time. But beneath that was an intense joy he hadn't known himself capable of. What was once a barren wasteland was now full of everything that brought Piett joy and pleasure; learning and exploring, his mother's smile, snow, clear blue water and green growing things. Piett could feel Vader's sense of wonder, too. Suddenly, Piett realized he was crying.


	3. Distracted

Vader was distracted. The object of his distraction, Admiral Piett, was himself distracted as he walked brusquely onto the bridge. Even without entering his mind, Vader could tell Piett was rather strongly aroused. That in itself wasn't so unusual; it happened to all the men from time to time. Vader mostly tuned it out. But Piett's had been growing for several days. Ever since Vader had allowed Piett to see him unmasked, Piett had existed in a state of near-constant arousal. Needless to say, Vader's plan to rid Piett of his infatuation with Vader had backfired.

Vader watched Piett walk to each station, taking reports and giving instructions, finally settling next to the right pit crew. He was just as quietly efficient as ever. Vader normally liked working with Piett, since Piett was one of the few officers who wasn't constantly wishing Vader gone whenever he was around. But this situation was getting out of hand.

Vader walked over and stopped next to Piett, not too far from his customary hyperspace-watching spot. Piett's arousal rose sharply as he assumed not-quite-perfect military grade posture. It was a good thing their uniforms were designed as they were, Vader vaguely noted, as it made it a lot easier to hide an erection, much like Vader's codpiece did. Piett's arousal was starting to make Vader feel aroused, more aroused than he'd felt in years. Vader really ought to just tune it out, like he always did.

Underneath that current of arousal, however, Piett's emotional state had steadily declined. It had started the moment Vader had put his helmet back on; there had been a moment of wonder-filled awe, then Piett had been filled with self-disgust and self-disapproval. Those emotions had risen along with his arousal. Now they were tinged with self-loathing and a hint of death. This last one filled Vader's blood with ice; Piett was one of the best men he'd ever known. For the first time since Obi-Wan's betrayal and Padme's death, Vader found himself trusting someone. Piett had proven himself worthy of that trust. But the man had an annoying and worrying habit of thinking too little of himself. Vader feared that just tuning this problem out and ignoring it would lead to Piett's death. Vader couldn't allow that to happen. No matter what Piett thought, Vader knew he deserved better than that. (He also deserved better than Vader, but there was no accounting for taste.) Vader couldn't afford to ignore it anymore; he would have to act.

It had been 4, 5, 6 years since Piett had had an obsession this bad, he thought, counting the years on his fingers as he rushed onto the bridge. Most of the time, his obsessions were fairly manageable when he was around Lord Vader. His Lordship's respirator provided a constant distraction and even a smokescreen to hide Piett's strange, broken thoughts. He had been extremely surprised to find that working in close proximity to Lord Vader helped with this. (There's a 63 percent chance Lord Vader's genitals are as scarred as the back of his head, the thought suddenly fired off. You're a fucking whore, he told himself.) Counting Vader's respirator was a very welcome distraction (37, 38, 39...) from his obsessive thoughts. (My distraction is going to kill us all, he suddenly thought.) It's been 4, 5, 6 years since I've had an obsession this bad, he thought again, counting again. (I should probably commit suicide and save Lord Vader the trouble of strangling me since my distraction is going to kill us all. 55, 56, 57...I'm a fucking coward. )

Trying to focus on his work, Piett made his usual rounds to each station, getting the morning status report and giving brief instruction when necessary. This morbid slew of thoughts had been causing a maelstrom in his brain for days, ever since he'd seen Lord Vader without a mask. (There's a 63 percent chance Vader's genitals are as scarred as the back of his head. Fucking whore.) Piett couldn't even imagine the pain Lord Vader had endured getting those scars. Someone that strong and brave was far above Piett's lowly self (fucking coward, he thought.) (There's a 63 percent chance Lord Vader's genitals are as scarred as the back of his head. Fucking whore.) Now, for the past week, it was all he could think about. (83, 84, 85...) His distractions were going to cause mistakes, and get people killed. He should just kill himself, and save Lord Vader the trouble. Lord Vader would probably appreciate that.

This had occurred to Piett this morning, when it became too obvious to ignore that his new obsession was going to last a while. (It's been 4, 5, 6 years since I've had an obsession this bad.) He finally settled next to the right pit crew after giving them their instructions for the morning. The worst part about it was, Lord Vader was part of it, so the counting didn't work. (101, 102, 103...) Piett just thought of His Lordship even more, which brought to mind the fact that there was a 63 percent chance that Lord Vader's genitals were as scarred as the back of his head. Constantly thinking about his crush's genitals was doing horrible things to Piett's libido (fucking whore), making it even harder to concentrate. It was a miracle he hadn't already made a mistake that had killed them all. (I should have already killed myself, saved Lord Vader the trouble. Lord Vader would want me to.) It had been 4, 5, 6 years since he'd had an obsession this bad, and he couldn't even stop thinking THAT or stop himself from counting on his fingers over and over again. (121, 122, 123...) Why couldn't Piett just have an innocent crush without his stupid broken brain ruining everything?

Suddenly, Lord Vader stopped right beside Piett, a whole 4 1/2 feet away from where he usually stood to watch hyperspace. (135, 136, 137...) Piett was sure his poor posture was noticed, but if he stood at proper military stance, his growing erection would have been way too obvious. (Fucking whore.) A hopefully not-too-obvious side glance told Piett that Lord Vader looked like he always did; except, wasn't his Lordship's codpiece usually a bit flatter? (In that case, there's only a 46 percent chance Lord Vader's genitals are as scarred as the back of his head. Stupid fucking whore, Piett, he reproached himself.) 152, 153, 154... but was no use. Lord Vader's protruding codpiece and maybe-scarred genitals were all Piett could think about. He wouldn't mind being force-strangled here and now, he'd be saved the embarrassment. He idly wondered if Sith lords ever used the force to jerk off. (You FUCKING whore.) At this point, it seemed prudent to fold his hands in front of his trousers, since no amount of weird posture in the world would hide this massive erection. (170, 171, 172...)

"Admiral, accompany me to my conference room. The rest of you, I expect no interruptions," Lord Vader barked out. He stalked out of the room, Piett close behind. And wasn't THIS the worst Walk of Shame in history? Everyone was staring at Piett with a mix of horror and pity, he didn't even get to Get Off first, and Lord Vader was apparently taking special care to strangle him. (I'm such a coward.) He really should have killed himself this morning, when the thought first occurred, and saved them all the trouble. (185, 186, 187...) It had been 4, 5, 6 years since he'd had an obsession this bad. Why now?

As Vader closed and locked the door to the conference room, he wondered how he should approach the problem. Should he be blunt? The primary problem was Piett's sudden suicidal feelings, which seemed to be fueled by his attraction to Vader. But Vader didn't understand how or why, and didn't really know how to fix it. He turned around and there Piett stood awkwardly by the table with his hands clasped in front, radiating anxiety, self-loathing, a desire to die, and still a ridiculous amount of arousal, somehow still thinking about numbers, as usual. Finally Vader said, "I am not losing my most loyal man to something as foolish as a crush, so you are going to deal with it right now. Do you want to do it yourself, or would you care for some help?"

Piett gave a humorless laugh. "If it were that easy, I would have dealt with it a long time ago. But I have obsessive-compulsive disorder. When stupid, random thoughts occur to me, they don't just disappear like they do for most people. They stay in my brain for weeks, sometimes months, and there's nothing I can do about it."

"What kind of thoughts? I never see anything in your mind but counting and battles."

"Because you don't look beyond the surface." Piett was reluctant to say more, but Lord Vader had asked. He scrubbed his face with his hands. "You see me counting your respirator breaths, 209 since I got to the bridge by the way, and you don't intrude any further. You don't see me thinking about the fact that there's a 46 percent chance that your genitals are as scarred as the back of your head, or how much of a whore that makes me, or about how my distraction will end up killing all of us, or how much of a coward I am for not getting rid of the source of the problem myself." Piett paused with a sigh, turning so his back was not quite to Vader. "I really should have killed myself this morning when the thought first occurred, and I wish you would get it over with and strangle me already. I'm so tired."

Vader felt his anger rise at Piett's request. He put his hands on his hips. "You seem to have managed so far in your life," he barked out.

"It isn't always this bad. I haven't had an obsession this bad in 4, 5, 6 years," Piett replied, counting on his fingers yet again. He turned to face Vader again. "But then I saw your scars, and that stupid thought got stuck in my broken brain, and I'm so...BOTHERED by it I can't think straight, and my distraction is going to get people killed, and I wish you'd just strangle me now and save everyone the trouble." (I just want to die, he thought.) Shame churned in his gut. He could feel his eyes stinging.

Vader felt his anger rise to a dangerous level. "Or I could keep you from thinking ANYTHING for the rest of your shift," he purred.

Piett snorted under his breath, for once not noticing Vader's rising temper. "Yea fucking right, I'd damn well like to see you try," he muttered in Huttese.

"I'm taking that as an invitation," Vader deadpanned in Huttese. (Piett had just enough time to think, kriffing hell.) Piett gasped as a force tendril started stroking his genitals.

There were 266 steps between the bridge and Piett's quarters. But for once, Piett wasn't counting them. He wasn't thinking about much of anything, for the first time since his last fencing lesson with Tarkin. True to his word, Vader had kept his force attack up for the rest of his shift, 7 hours and 13 minutes. If Piett had had any room to think about anything except the excruciating pleasure coursing through him, he would have been rather embarrassed at the number of times he'd come on the bridge. (Thank heavens the uniform tunic comes this low, he thought. The damp spot doesn't really show.)

"Hey, Fir!" He heard Veers call out. Piett looked back and saw Veers jogging to catch up to him. "Heard you had a hard day on the bridge."

"Yes, you could say that." (Literally, in fact, Piett thought.) They moved on, walking side by side. "It was kind of tense." He felt unusually relaxed now, though. He was a little surprised that Veers hadn't commented on the less-than-pristine state of his uniform.

"Sorry to hear that. Need a drink?" Veers asked.

"A shower and then bed, I think," Piett replied. "Don't even have the energy for dinner."

"I could drop it by later," Veers said.

"No thank you. If I get too hungry, I can go down to the officer's club," Piett said.

"Well, suit yourself." At this point, they had arrived at the hallway their quarters were in. "Have a good night."

"Good night," Piett replied, turning towards his room. He had no idea which step number he was on. He went in and flung himself down on his bed. He'd get up and take that shower in just a minute...

* * *

A. N. This one was inspired by a Tumbler prompt about Vader giving Piett a Force job. Someone made the comment that in order for the prompt to work, Vader would have to get very out-of-character. This was an attempt to make it in-character; if, for some reason, he thought Piett was endangering himself and Vader already cared about Piett, Vader would do just about anything to help. I hope I did a half-decent job.


End file.
